Saturday, August 30, 2008

A gardener was at his labours in his master's garden when Death appeared to him...The horrified gardener ran to his master and said..."Master, master I have seen Death in your garden. Give me a horse that I might escape his cold clutches...""Why certainly you may take a horse, but where will you ride...?" Asked the master..."I will ride to the city of Chichester and hide myself up within it's strong walls..." Replied the frightened wretch...Away went the gardener on his master's horse cutting the whip deep...The master then took a turn about his garden and he to meet Death...With anger fuelled courage the master strode up to Death and demanded to know why he had scared his gardener so..."To be honest" said Death "I was quite taken aback to meet a man I have an appointment with tonight at the City Folk Club in Chichester..."

Over to Jimmy Saville O.B.E....

"Now then, now then boys and gals what did the lovely people sing this week...?"

Friday, August 22, 2008

Since abandoning his employment as a greased pig wrestler, after an unpleasant incident with a Gloucestershire Old Spot, Enoch Baines had fallen on hard times. Winter was fast approaching and he knew the tattered rags that hung around him would be scant protection against the cold in his wattle and daub lean-to hard by the banks of the dismal canal. It would be no understatement to describe his prospects as bleak.Stumbling from the Horse and Rolling Pin public house one evening Enoch tripped on an unseen object on the filthy pavement. A startled cry, and he found himself standing on a small trolly heading at great speed toward the gutter. With the aid of a nearby lamp-post Enoch stayed his impromptu trajectory the trolly took flight then landed, smashing to pieces on the cobbled street. Regaining his balance he turned to look at the obstacle that had caused this unexpected mishap.Slumped on the flagstones was a truncated shabby figure holding what appeared to be a corrugated leather stomach and shrieking invective toward him..."Why You dozy cove, look where your a'stepping lest I fetch you a drubbing an no mistake"...Was the nubbin of the unfortunate's tirade...Gathering his befuddled wits Enoch muttered his embarrassed contrition and set about assisting the sprawled figure attain an upright posture. After ten minutes of cursing from the one and apologies from the other an uneasy accord was met and introductions made. "I am Enoch Bains former greased pig wrestler to whom might I be speaking?" "I am non other than Monsewer (sic) Albert Clamp Legless Concertina player to the crowned heads of Europe currently reduced to busking in the street on account of the fickle nature of stardom". Rattled out the aggrieved party. "Where's me trolly?'The two scanned the street they're eyes simultaneously alighting on the broken trolly surveying it with growing dismay. "An' 'ow do you propose I am to get to me lodgings now mister?" said Clamp in a forlorn whine. Enoch stood in thought awhile then announced, "Why, I shall carry you for 'tis the least I can do." "The very least!" said Clamp "but sufficient." Hoisting the grumbling amputee on to his shoulders Enoch set off in the instructed direction swaying under the weight of Clamp and the influence of alcohol. To inspire confidence in his burden Enoch began to whistle. Clamp, his upset subsiding, eventually took up Enoch's shrill melody on the concertina. After several hundred yards of swaying, blowing and squeezing the odd pair had attracted a small crowd of puzzled onlookers who followed them down the street. When they reached the pump in the town square Enoch stopped momentarily to check his balance and catch breath before the final leg of the journey whereupon the gathered throng broke into wild applause all the while showering them both with coins. "Cripes!" said Clamp "we're on to something 'ere lad""Quick, to the City Folk Club...!"

Sunday, August 17, 2008

If, like me, you are continually accosted by slumped mendicants in public thoroughfares and asked ... "I'm thinking of visiting the City Folk Club." "What should I bring with me...?"By consulting the following handy list you may now answer the enquiry with confidence...So here are the ten essential items that any potential visitor, wishing to fully participate in an evening at the City Folk Club, should bring with them:

Saturday, August 9, 2008

Dr. Sebag Mayberry-Quinn, natural philosopher, was a driven man...How long had he been here alone in his laboratory...?Allowing no natural light to penetrate his fevered labouring the interminable progression of night and day had long since ceased to influence his world. He no longer had cognisance of either...He was close now, he was so very close...Dr. Sebag Mayberry-Quinn took stock of his eldritch industry, the product of many years of work stood before him. Half a beaker of green fluid...

Screwing his courage to the sticking place, Dr. Sebag Mayberry-Quinn lifted the draught to his lips and supped deeply then waited, waited and waited...Five minutes elapsed, nothing... nothing at all...Dashing the beaker to the ground he swore vigourously then, like a far off messenger running toward him at great speed, he felt a rising sensation overtake his sensibilities. A vast, overwhelming tide of horror ripped through his every fibre and sinew, his mouth sprang open, let out an inhuman guttural bellowing roar and he collapsed to the floor writhing in agony...Darkness fell suddenly on the mind of Dr. Sebag Mayberry-Quinn and he was still...

An hour later two red-rimmed eyes opened and took unblinking stock of their surroundings yet registered no recognition. The creature that emerged from the tattered remains of Dr. Sebag Mayberry-Quinn's clothing stood up, shook itself violently then stumbled toward the full-length mirror behind the door and stared and stared...There was a moments uneasy stillness then pandemonium..!The creature careened and whirled about the laboratory smashing equipment and furniture in a fit of incandescent rage...

The door to the lab opened tentatively and the head of Mrs. Hilda Ingham, the doctor's housekeeper, poked through and surveyed the scene of destruction with mouth gaping alarm...."Wot on 'erf is a going on 'ere?" she cried.. She caught sight of the beast, now stood atop the bookcase.... "Good 'eavens! 'Ow on 'erf did you get in 'ere?" In one swift movement she was across the room and had the creature by the neck...."There'll be 'ell to pay when the Doctor gets back an' no mistake." " Ow am I gonna explain a chicken getting loose an' a wrecking 'is room...?" "Still it be easier explained over a nice roast chicken I'll wager..."

Dr. Sebag Mayberry-Quinn, natural philosopher, swinging limply from his housekeeper's stout hand, knew then that he would miss tonight's City Folk Club....

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Having dined on a selection of cold meats & savage mustards followed by a cold rice pudding, Mr. Alfred Higgins Esq. pushed himself back from the table, belched lightly into his napkin and addressed his wife..."Mrs. Higgins, I feel the breath of the muse upon my soul and must exercise my talent..."Mrs. Higgins stared at her uneaten rice pudding feeling that familiar rising unease that inevitably followed her husband's now all-too-frequent announcement..."Must you, Mr. Higgins?" she implored earnestly, her fragile composure in danger of shattering at any moment..."Mrs. Higgins. You know I am unable to control the beast once I have heard its cry." "Now be so kind as to draw the curtains firmly shut so we may begin..."Ever the dutiful wife, Mrs. Higgins went about her allotted task whilst Mr. Higgins fished about in his undershirt for the bunch of keys that unlocked the gateway to his personal paradise...His hands trembled slightly, beads of perspiration formed on his brow... Reaching under the sideboard Mr. Higgins withdrew a sinister elongated black leather-bound case..Mrs. Higgins, unbidden, covered the photo of her long dead mother with an antimacassar from the best armchair and offered up a silent prayer for her own salvation...Mr. Higgins, his eyes popping, the veins on his forehead bulging horribly, unlocked the case, flipped the clasps, threw open the lid, grasped hold of his foul instrument, turned to his wife and said with a leer, "what's it be tonight then Mrs. Higgins..?""Every Friday night the same" Mrs. Higgins thought, "Every Friday night the same..." Then her suppressed rage burst its banks, gushing forth, uncontrollable, unstoppable, the words tumbling over each other in a tirade of unbridled disgust... "Why can't you and your filthy banjo just sod off up the City Folk Club...?"

David, the original 'genial host'

"I have a plan ..."

Max. Our Founding Father...

"That could confuse a stupid person..."

Folk For All on St. Richard's Hospital Radio...

Should you have the misfortune to find yourself incapacitated and rushed to St. Richard's Hospital at Chichester do not despair...!Our Minister Without Portfolio, Ken, will be on hand to provide succour of a musical nature...

Yes! "Folk For All" on St. Richard's hospital radio's channel 11 (1431am within the hospital's campus) features an eclectic mix of traditional and contemporary folk music, from solo unaccompanied to 'full on' folk rock, plus a guide to what's on at the local clubs, festivals and concerts...Follow this link for more details, and you can listen live on your PC anywhere:http://www.chr1431.org.uk/Why not have that 'accident' right now...?